


Ramble On

by Anyaparadox



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Complete, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Miscommunication, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Sabriel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-25 16:29:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/955294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anyaparadox/pseuds/Anyaparadox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a car crash, a death, and a new job open up a whole different future for Sam Winchester, and Dean can’t quite believe his own luck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ramble On

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this story over the course of a few months and posted it chapter by chapter on ff. net, but I decided to post the whole thing in one go here :) Fear of driving by Sam, see warning at bottom. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Also, I'm anyaparadox on tumblr as well, come by and say hi!

**Chapter 1: Zeppelin**

 

He was in a wild rush. One of those rushes that sent people flying out the door with pants on backwards and two different pairs of shoes on. Not that Sam Winchester would know, because he was the epitome of composed and organized and graceful, and nothing his brother claimed would make that less true. Still, Sam was hustling, and he managed to make it into the coffee shop with five minutes to spare.

What is the big rush, it could be asked, for a coffee? Is there a limited supply of whipped topping and butterscotch flavoring? Could there be a shortage of arabica beans, or even skim milk?

No. Not today. Today was Sam Winchester’s interview at Bump N’ Grind, a coffee shop only a block from his new apartment in Bandon, Oregon. It was only a small establishment that admittedly had wonderful service and great live music on Saturdays, but still, a small business that didn’t pay much more than minimum wage.

Which brings about the question of _why_. Why would Sam Winchester, a young, good looking man, who happened to possess a law degree from an extremely prominent school, be looking for an interview and a job at this particular coffee shop?

It could be said it was because Sam was tired of the stresses of school, and just wanted something mindless for the summer. It could also be said that Sam had loved school, and had gotten his law degree from Stanford, and then promptly decided he hated everything about lawyers: their egos, slicked back hair, briefcases, damned perfunctory gazes of condescension, and the way that they practically oozed obsequious, sycophantic, smarmy, ass-kissing natures everywhere, and thought the use of big, capacious, ginormous phraseology made them God’s gift to mankind.

So, perhaps it could be said that while Sam Winchester hated lawyers, he did have the previous knowledge to keep up with them in the language department.

Still, this was not the reason that Sam would say he wanted a job at the simple coffee shop with the ridiculous name. The reason was a combination of long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a cross over a fresh mound of dirt; the squeal of tires, and a scream drawn out in agony, then silence as the car finally stops rolling. The reason that really didn’t need to be a reason anymore, nearly a year, a degree, and a move to a brand new town later; it still was a reason though, time didn’t change pain, no matter what anyone else said.

So yes. Sam wanted the job at Bump N’ Grind because he liked the place, and he liked the town, and he really liked his small apartment where his brand new kitten was probably tearing up his single couch. He especially loved the fact that no one here looked at him with pity, or even knew a single thing about him. The only person who had any information was his (hopefully) new boss, Gabriel Novak, who had read his resume. His resume may have had his Stanford degree, and his qualifications on it, but it definitely had no mention of a car crash, or a finite hand tremor, or PTSD, or the fact that Sam couldn’t get inside a car without a wild panic attack; his resume most certainly did not have the name Jessica Sanders written on it either.

“Sam, you made it!” Mr. Novak was not a large man, especially to Sam’s huge physique, but he had a personality that made up for any lack of height.

Sam nodded, “Yes, sorry I was a little bit late, Mr. Novak.”

“Gabriel, please,” he reached out and shook Sam’s hand, “I’m so happy you could make it in for this interview. Follow me, if you don’t mind.”

Sam followed Gabriel back into his office, which was quite spacious for the size of the coffee shop. Books lined the office, and the desk was of a caliber that could have had Sam waxing poetic about it for days; huge oak surface, full of drawers and hidden niches, and a marvelous pull out drawer for a laptop.

Sam sat down on a chair on the other side of the intimidating desk and steepled his hands on his lap. Gabriel flung himself onto his chair, letting it spin once before he came face to face with Sam.

“So, are you wanted for murder?” Gabriel opened.

Sam felt blood drain from his face, and his hand started to shake, “I’m sorry?”

“Well, the only possible reason I can imagine a lawyer --from Stanford-- with such an incredibly decorated resume, wanting to work in my tiny coffee shop is that he is either wanted for murder, or completely and totally insane. So which is it?”

Sam couldn’t possible tell him the real reason --both: a murderer and totally off his rocker-- so he just shrugged, still a little shaken. “I like the neighborhood, the beach is nice. I got a cat.”

Gabriel smiled, “I like cats. That’s a good start. Well, Sam, I honestly can’t say I’m not going to hire you, because the one thing I am _not_ is an idiot. What kind of work do you want, what hours, and when do you want to start?”

“I don’t really care when I work, Mr. Novak-”

“Gabriel.”

“Gabriel... I’d prefer to work enough hours to make rent. In between... twenty to forty hours a week. I’ll happily do full time if you have it. Even overtime if you need me. I just have to make sure to feed my cat. And I’d like to start as soon as possible.”

It probably should have been a concern to Sam that his only complication in life was his cat. He obviously needed a social life (beyond a therapist), some friends, maybe even a hobby. 

“Alright, Sam, how’s this: you start training today, I’ll train you myself. This week you can work the next three days, have the weekend off, and then on Monday we’ll start giving you shifts where you are no longer the trainee, but a real employee. We’ll start with twenty hours a week for this month, then move you up.”

Sam nodded. “Sounds great to me, Gabriel. I do have one question, if you don’t mind.”

Gabriel smiled, “That’s to be expected. Shoot.”

“Where’s the town library?”

Gabriel’s mouth fell open, and Sam could tell that the man in front of him was very rarely speechless, and he was almost proud he could manage the feat the first day.

“Around the corner, down two blocks.” Gabriel forced himself to say.

“Walking distance?”

“Yep.” Gabriel frowned slightly, “Sam, you know that we’re paying you $9.75 an hour, right?”

Sam smiled easily, the first one the whole interview, “Plus tips. I know, Mr. Novak. I like this shop.”

Gabriel sighed, “Hell, you’d have to be in love with it to concede to this deal. I feel like I’m being tricked. That’s rare for me, you should know. Normally, I tend to pull the pranks around here.”

“No trick, I swear.” Sam stood, Gabriel following the motion, “So, what can I do to help?”

Gabriel sighed, “Guess we’ll start by stocking. You’ll hate that part the most.”

 

* * *

 

Sam returned home six hours later with bruises and flour covering his body. He was sore, and frustrated, and absolutely ready to kill Gabriel Novak. Still, he walked into his apartment and sat down on his couch, his kitten crying out for his attention, and told her about his day. She purred softly and stretched out on his lap, and Sam thought that perhaps they could be happy here. It was a consolation that even though his boss had dumped a bag of flour on his head on purpose, Gabriel seemed to really approve of Sam’s work ethic.

“Cat, get off. I’m going to bed.” It wasn’t that late, not even nine yet, but Sam was exhausted from pulling heavy boxes around all day. Stock, as Gabriel had promised, was not very enjoyable, although it had been mindless. Sam’s cat gave him a dirty look, one that promised retribution if he didn’t stop calling her Cat. Sam despised naming animals, as much as he loved them.

“Well, what do you even want me to name you!? I’m terrible at names. I wanted to name my first kid Homer, because the Odyssey was an  incredible literature conquest, but I was shot down by Jess-” Sam stopped suddenly, her name catching in his throat.

The cat meowed, it’s golden eyes questioning, as if asking for more information about this new person, this new name that it had never heard before.

“Stupid, talking to a cat.” Sam muttered, “I’ll just name you. Umm... what about Spot.”

The cat hissed, and Sam wondered very briefly if he had managed to pick up the most confrontational and intelligent kitten in the whole rescue shelter.

“Lady? Bones? Whiskers? Lucky? Bobby?” Sam glowered at that name, mostly because he rarely brought up the man who had practically raised him and his brother. He had loved Bobby, yet it was still less painful to speak of his death of cancer that had come around five years past than it was to talk about Jess. Probably because Bobby’s passing had been expected. Jess’ had blindsided him, and destroyed every plan for the future Sam had made. 

Sam pushed the kitten to the floor and headed to his bathroom, intent on a hot shower before bed. The shower was perfection, and Sam managed to make it to his bedroom with only two jaw splitting yawns. Cat was sitting on his pillow, and Sam rolled his eyes. He flopped onto his bed and grabbed at his cell phone on the nightstand. With a single button push, Sam was speed dialing.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Dean’s voice was a comfort over the phone, even as it annoyed Sam with it’s practiced patience and sympathy. Dean tried not to cater to emotions or feelings often, but he’d been a mess of pity and sympathy since Jess died. Sam hated it, especially since, as much as he loved his brother, he would absolutely never understand how Sam felt. Dean had never been with anyone the way Sam had been with Jess; there was no one that he looked at like they were everything, the whole fucking world revolved around them.

“Not much. Got that job I was talking about.” Sam answered slowly. Dean disapproved completely of Sam’s actions, probably because Dean had spent the last five years working as an EMT to put Sam through school. The good thing about Dean, though? He rarely admits he’s annoyed, because that would lead to a ‘chick flick moment’, and Dean despised those.

“Knew you would, they’re lucky to have you, man.” Dean’s smile was obvious even through the phone line. Sam can’t help but grinning at open air; it’s just so easy to please Dean, he’s always proud, whether it’s a law degree or a coffee shop barista job.

“Anyway, I have another reason for calling,” Sam grumbled, “I need you to help me with a name for a cat.”

“Aw, dude, you got a cat? Seriously, come on, I hate those!”

Sam scoffed, “It’s not your cat, it’s mine, and she’s lovely. Now help me with a name, you were always better with crap like that.”

Dean laughed, making the line a little fuzzy, “Aw, Sammy, is that just cause I named you?”

“You merely suggested using Grandpa’s name, I believe it was mom who okay’d the whole thing.” Sam informed him.

“Yeah, thank god you were a boy. I told them to use Sam no matter what, but they wanted to name you Mildred if you were a girl!”

Sam laughed, “Last time you told me they wanted to name me Gertrude!”

He can almost feel Dean’s shrug through the phone line and Sam realizes he misses his brother so much he could scream. Still, the move was meant to take him _away_ from all that crap, and he’s not about to negate all his hard work. “Whatever, Sammy, it was a shit name, no matter what it was.”

“Dean. Cat. Name. Please.” Sam reminded him.

“How about Zeppelin.” Dean rumbled. Sam nodded instantly; the name was perfect for his cat, especially since his kitten was all black, with a single white paw, and seriously badass eyes.

“Zeppelin.” Cat looked up at the name, golden eyes trained on him. “Perfect, Dean. Seriously. You got talent, I’ve been calling her Cat for two days.”

“You are so useless.”

Sam sighed, “Says the one who finally stopped peeing the bed at nine years old!”

“You cried till you were twelve about the monsters in your closet!”

“Shut up, bitch!”

“Whatever, Jerk.”

Sam grinned, “Night, Dean.”

“Night, Sam.”

Sam plugged his phone in and set his alarm for work the next morning, letting Zeppelin curl up onto his body and purr him to sleep.

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 2: Reveal**

 

He woke before his alarm to a strangled scream, and Zeppelin shooting out of his bedroom like her tail was on fire. Sam realized he had nearly crushed her in his crippling nightmare, and he swung his feet to touch the ground so that calmness poured through him. Nightmares were far and few between these days, although they still happened. Sam turned his alarm off, happy to find that he had only woken up forty-five minutes ahead of schedule, and still had a decent night’s sleep.

Zeppelin was hidden under the couch, and Sam served her an extra large portion of kitty food to make up for scaring her. He grabbed some cereal, dressed for work, and headed down the street. He was insanely early, so instead Sam continued down the road to the library that Gabriel had informed him of. It was a small building, but Sam had seen worse stocked libraries, as far as this one went. He browsed the sections before finding a few books to take out, and approached the front desk where a pretty red head was standing.

She smiled at him warmly, “New in town?”

“How did you know?” Sam asked, sincerely confused.

She laughed, and it was a pleasantly warm sound. “It’s a pretty small town, mostly full of people who don’t really know what a library is, less how to use one. I’m Anna Milton, by the way.”

“Sam Winchester,” Sam extended his hand, “and yes, I am new in town. I’m working at Bump N’ Grind. Which... is a coffee shop, not a bar...”

Anna laughed, a bit too loudly for a library, but there was no one else there, “Oh, I know. My step brother is the boss actually. Gabriel Novak?”

Sam nodded, “Yep, he’s my boss. Step brother, hey? That’s cool.”

“Yeah, we have a pretty big combination family. Three Novaks, and four Milton’s, all told. Parents died a while back, but we still stick together mostly.”

Sam grinned, “Good for you, family is important.”

“I agree,” Anna smiled down at his books, “Now. Sam Winchester, I’m getting you a library card.” 

She asked him some questions, and soon enough he had a new shiny blue card with his name on it, and four new books under his arm.

“Thank you, Anna.” Sam called out over his shoulder, pleased that at least the people in the town seemed friendly thus far.

He was still early to work, although definitely a more acceptable definition of early (fifteen minutes), and Gabriel immediately handed him a coffee. “Hey, Sam. Today we’re going to get you going on our machines behind the counter, which isn’t as hard as stocking, but more to remember. Sound good?”

“Yeah, sounds great.” Sam smiled easily. As infuriating as Gabriel could be --he wasn’t kidding when he said he was usually the one who pulled the pranks-- he was extremely easy to get along with.

Sam followed behind him, and he thought that perhaps he could learn to really like the life he was creating here.

Not love it. That possibility didn’t really exist any more, not in a world without Jessica. But he could like it.

 

* * *

 

Two months, seven whoopee cushions, two permanently dyed hands, and twelve --twelve!-- sharpie moustaches later, and Sam was officially a full time member of staff at the Bump N’ Grind coffee shop. More surprisingly, Sam had made three friends so far; Gabriel Novak, who was now simply Gabe; Anna Milton, who had impeccable taste in books, and if Sam wasn’t so completely uninterested he would totally be asking her out on a date; and Castiel Novak, Gabe’s blood brother and Anna’s step brother.

Sam liked Castiel enough, but there wasn’t a whole lot of conversation when it was just the two of them. In a way, they were sort of alike, both fairly shy and quiet; generally more interested in books than people. Still, Castiel was kind and intelligent, and Sam was grateful to have as many friends as he could. Plus, being on the in with the Novak-Milton family had some serious perks; for one, there was always a movie marathon to be had, and Sam had never had so much of a social life as he suddenly found himself having now.

The downside (major downside, really) was the other siblings of the family. Raphael, Uriel, and Lucifer (Sam had asked about that name, and all he had gotten was a dark look from Gabe and a _“my family has religion issues”_ ) Milton, and Michael Novak. Basically they were all insufferable, although Michael more in a stick-up-his-ass way, and the others in a could-kill-me-with-a-thought way. Sam was honestly terrified of them, and he usually wasn’t such a wimp.

“Gabe, we need more soy in here!” Sam called to the back office, and Gabriel popped his head out.

“Crate in the stock room, can’t miss it.” His voice was annoyed, and he shut his office door without a second look. It was bizarre behavior, especially for Gabe, who while moody was usually friendly to the point of being creepy and awkward. Sam went for the crate and found the soy milk easily, putting it in the fridge. It wasn’t busy by any means in Bump N’ Grind, seeing as it was a Wednesday afternoon around 3. All the rushes were over, except for the after dinner date rush, which was Sam’s least favorite because it meant happy couples.

“Sam.” Gabe called him, and Sam returned to the back office to see Gabriel standing in the doorway. He looked incredibly exhausted, and more than a little pissed.

“What’s up?” Sam asked, unsure what was making his boss --and best friend, truth be told-- feel so down. It was unusual to see such a somber look on Gabriel’s face, and Sam had gotten quite used to, and fond of, his infectious sense of humour.

Gabe gestured him inside the office and Sam plopped into the seat he had officially claimed as his. He spent most of his free time at work in here with Gabe anyway. Gabriel didn’t sit in his office chair, he paced.

Definitely weird behaviour.

“Sam,” Gabe started, then cursed, “shit!”

Sam stared blankly, “Gabe, what’s wrong?”

Finally, Gabriel stopped pacing and leaned against the desk. His face was drawn and resigned.

“Sam. I’m sorry that I have to tell you this, before you were ready to tell me.” Gabriel sighed heavily, “Police just called from California.”

Sam felt all the breath leave his body, and his face go pale, “Why?” It was barely a whisper.

 “They closed Jessica’s case, can’t find the drunk driver who hit her. Car was stolen.” Gabriel was silent for a moment, “You should have told me.”

Sam’s emotions are all over the place, and he can’t understand the building and immense _relief_ that storms through him at Gabriel’s words. As soon as it’s there, it’s swept away in the wake of guilt, guilt, so much fucking guilt that Sam is left reeling.

Then he realizes that he feels like the smallest mite of dirt on the ground, not because his past girlfriend’s death has caught up to him once again, but because Gabriel thinks he fucking _lied_ to him. 

“I didn’t want you to pity me.” Sam grits out, and manages to meet Gabriel’s eyes. He’s a wreck. Fuck, he’s even more of a wreck than Sam is at this point; his hair is mussed, his permanent smile nowhere to be found, and his hands shaky.

“I don’t --shit; I don’t pity you, I am _sorry_ , so sorry, that I never knew,” he breathes, “but I don’t pity you. I’m... is this why you reacted so weird when I asked if you were a murderer? Back when I interviewed you?”

Sam’s fists clench, “Yes. I was driving. I lived, she died.” End of story. End of Sam’s future. End of Jessica’s life. End of everything.

Gabriel suddenly sinks to his knees, and he’s staring up at Sam whose making a conscious effort to memorize every single detail about the tiling in the office.

“Sammy, Sammy, no.” Gabriel breathes, and it sounds like he might be the one to break down, not Sam. “You are not a murderer, not you; my god, you couldn’t even stand to put mice traps out last week, I had to trap them humanely and ship them off just so you weren’t put out with me!”

“I’m not a murderer --not on purpose.” Sam says.

Gabe’s stare is intense, and Sam hates himself for the warmth rising in his chest, and the happiness he didn’t intend to find here settling into his heart. “I wouldn’t be friends with a murderer.”

“You didn’t know until now.” Sam whispers.

Gabe rocks back on his heels, as if Sam had physically struck him with those words. “This Jessica. She loved you, yes?”

Sam glances sharply at him. “Yes.”

“And you loved her?”

Sam nodded thickly.

“More than anything?” Gabriel’s eyes are darker, darker than Sam has ever seen them. Midnight on a tired face, full of nothing but friendship and acceptance. There was no pity there. It catches Sam by surprise, and nearly makes his next word a lie as it comes out of his mouth.

“Yes.”

Gabriel smiles, the first one in a while, and it’s sad, and tired, and more than a little exasperated, as if he’s annoyed that Sam’s being so stupid.

“And if this Jessica loved you the way you loved her, don’t you think she would be proud of what you’re doing here? Happy that you have a job, and friends, and a brother? Happy that you are, on the occasion you allow yourself to be, happy?”

Sam sinks his face into his hands, and he can feel Gabriel stand up beside him. His hand is warm on his shoulder, and Sam wants to hate himself for leaning into the touch, but he can’t quite manage it.

“Take the rest of the day off.” Gabe’s words are soft. “Don’t think this excuses you from movie night tomorrow. We’re all coming over at six, so be ready.”

Without another word he disappears from the office, leaving Sam to deal with his resignation over Gabe’s new knowledge, and the shocking feeling of relief upon hearing about Jess’ case. With it being open like that, even while Sam was nowhere near the state of California, it had felt wrong to try to move on. Other people were still trying to help her, to save her, so why couldn’t Sam do the same? 

It was laid to rest now, and that left Sam feeling angry, and upset, and relieved, and hurt. It also left him to deal with the troubling new emotion that had shocked Sam beyond all belief: attraction.

Gabriel Novak; annoying, short, egotistical, candy-addicted, perfect, fucking gorgeous Gabriel, who had just managed to carve a small (gigantic, huge, crater of a space) place into Sam’s heart for him.

Sam resolutely moved to his feet, took a deep breath, and exited out the back of the shop. He would go home, feed Zeppelin, call Dean, and go to sleep early. He would not think about Jess. He would not think about Gabriel. He would not have nightmares. He would not spend an inordinate amount of time in his shower with his imagination and Gabriel’s amazing eyes and incredible shoulders--

Well. Sam would just go to sleep.

His apartment was a welcome sight, with his books spread on his table and his laptop sitting on the couch. Zeppelin was cowering under the armchair, and Sam was surprised to see her do so. She was very affectionate when it came to Sam, and she had even grown to like Castiel, Anna, and Gabriel.

That’s when Sam saw the duffel bag sitting by the door to his room, and he managed to not freak out and scream like a panicked girl. Thankfully, Sam remembered at least half of what his late father had attempted to teach him, and he was no slacker in a fight. John Winchester didn’t have weak sons, and marine training had taught him how to toughen them up appropriately. Sam had almost been glad when he had died, and that had only made the guilt worse.

Still, Sam approached his room as if it contained a biohazard chemical spill, and he barely stopped himself from throwing the hardest punch he could manage when a familiar figure appeared in front of him.

Self satisfied smirk, green eyes, freckles, and an ego that could match Gabriel’s any day.

“Hey, Sammy! You miss me, or what?” Dean grinned, and Sam suddenly realized how complicated life could get in a matter of a day.

Well, shit. He’d just been boned by the fickle finger of fate.

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 3: Movies**

 

It was the next day when Sam woke up nearly at noon that he knew precisely how fucked over he was. It wasn’t enough that everyone Sam seemed to care about managed to die off before the age of thirty, he now had a wildly rampant crush on his boss, who he was almost positive was straight (although, he did have a tendency to hit on anything that breathed), and a massive slut of a brother roaming around his apartment.

To top this ice cream sundae of ‘screwed’ off, he had the maraschino cherry and sprinkles of ‘ _movie night’_.

What a barbaric practice, inviting friends over for quality time outside of a work place. How overrated, how boring, how ridiculous... how badly was Dean going to embarrass him tonight!?

Sam pulled himself out of bed, a hangover threatening to still hit him despite the late hour, and remembered that Dean had drank him under the table after convincing him that a single night cap was a great idea. Sam sighed, scrubbed a hand down his face, and managed to face his apartment for the day. Zeppelin was pissed at him, and hiding, but he fed her a little more than usual (his normal apology to his beloved cat), and started on some eggs.

Dean appeared out of the bathroom quickly when the smell infused the house, and he plopped himself down at Sam’s table. He didn’t look worse for the wear despite the amount he had drank the night before; still, Dean had always had John’s talent for ingesting anything basically toxic and surviving.

“What’s our Friday plans, Sammy?”

“It’s Sam.” Sam bitched. He had probably said this sentence to Dean daily for the entirety of their lives after he turned nine, but Dean still chose to ignore it.

“Question still stands, Sammy.”

Sam sighed, “I’m making you eggs, asking you why in the hell you are _here_ , and not back in California at work. Total plans so far.” Sam was _not_ going to mention movie night, nope nope nope, not a chance in hell.

“I’m here cause I took a week off, and I missed you. And I am totally down for those eggs dude, whenever.”

Sam gave him a plate of bacon and eggs, and slumped to a seat across from his brother. His brother who, even he, had to admit was extremely good looking, and a little bendy on the whole sexuality thing. Well. If Gabe was anything but straight, he would take a look at Dean and forget Sam ever existed.

Weird. Weird. Weird. Sam had never been jealous of how easily Dean seemed to get girls, and yet now he was having a complex about men with his brother. How quickly life got turned upside down.

“So, wanna go try and hit on strippers with me tonight? Come on, man. It’s been over a year.”

Sam bristled, “I do _not_ want to hit on strippers with you. I realize how the passage of time works, Dean.”

“Loosen up man, let’s check out some chicks.” Dean winked.

Sam rolled his eyes, “ Did it ever even occur to you that I _already_ have someone?”

Dean’s eyes brightened and Sam realized his mistake the instant it happened.

“Who?” Dean nearly exploded in excitement, “Why didn’t you tell me about her, man? I have to meet her, I have to. Name?”

“No, I, uh, I don’t have anyone, not actually.”

Dean’s excitement faded and his smile dropped, “You made up a girlfriend? Dude, that’s sick.”

Sam sputtered, “No, Dean! I mean, I don’t have a girlfriend, but I’m not interested in... well, anyone.”

“Lie.” Dean said instantly.

“Is not.” 

“Lie. You can’t make contact with my eyes when you’re lying. You’re a shitty liar, Sammy. Always have been. So whose the lucky lady that you’re so interested in?”

“There is no lucky lady, Dean.” Sam manages to meet Dean’s eyes through the whole sentence, due to it being quite true. Gabriel is most definitely not a lady.

“Whatever, Sammy.  So you don’t wanna hit on strippers. Wanna wingman for me then?”

“No, Dean. I actually have plans. So feel free to go out or whatever, but don’t bring anyone back here!”

Dean surprise has frozen his face, and Sam doesn’t know what in his previous sentence could be considered such a shock. 

Then it occurs to him that he has never once mentioned Castiel, Gabriel, or Anna, in a phone call, other than ‘my boss’, or ‘my boss’s sister and/or brother’. Dean hadn’t realized he had any friends, that he ever had plans. 

Sam can’t decide if he’s angry that Dean didn’t believe he had any friends, or any social life, or if he feels bad about not letting Dean in on this info.

“What kind of plans?” Dean asks, after he has regained his composure.

Sam flushes, “Some friends are coming over for a movie night.”

“Friends?” Dean sounds hurt.

Sam shrugged, “Yeah. My boss, I mentioned him to you, Gabriel. His sister, Anna, and his brother, Castiel.”

Dean swallows and his clenched fist on the table relaxes. He stands abruptly and clears the plates away. It’s a moment before Sam can speak again, and all he can concentrate on is the fact that he’s hurt Dean. He’s offended him, leaving out an important part of his life in their phone conversations. Sam can’t stand hurting Dean, he’s so close to the last thing he has left. There’s still Ellen, Jo, Ash, and Chuck; adoptive family from a time when Bobby had died. They were all still close, and Sam loved them dearly, but Dean was blood, Dean was family, and Sam had spent his entire childhood idolizing the brother who protected him against everything.

Sam remembers being in school and how Dean always talked to him in the hallways, even though it wasn’t cool --hell, Sam wasn’t cool, and Dean always had been. Dean had never cared, had always made time for him even when he had other friends, and the only person Dean had ever concerned himself about being ‘cool’ for was Sammy.

“You’re welcome to join.” Sam’s saying the words before he can stop himself, and he doesn’t really regret it once their out. Dean pokes his head out from the kitchen, and he looks almost dejected and morose. Sam had honestly thought he was the only Winchester who had perfected the puppy dog look, but Dean isn’t half bad.

“It’s okay, man, I can entertain myself. If, you know, you wanna hang with your friends.”

Sam does _not_ miss the bitter way Dean says ‘friends’ as if it’s some sort of dirty word. “I do want to hang with my friends, but you’re my brother, and I would also like you to meet them.”

Dean brightens considerably after that, and when Sam says he still needs to go to the library today, Dean doesn’t even offer to drive him.

In most people’s books that isn’t a nice thing. In Sam’s world, that’s about the equivalent of a fucking hug and a brand new hardcover as a gift.

Dean stays home to shower, and he even promises to tidy the place. Sam’s got nearly two hours before the others come over, and he knows Gabe’s on shift for one more hour at least. He makes it to the shop in plenty of time and heads to the counter. Gabriel, the boss himself, is working the counter tonight, and he grins at Sam when he comes in. Fucking _grins_ as if all of yesterday was just some horrible imagined nightmare. 

“Sammy, you miss me so much you came in on your day off?” Gabe teases. He also immediately starts in on a caramel soy latte, Sam’s personal favorite. 

Sam smirks, “Whatever, Gabe. I just came in to warn you. My brother, Dean, is in town and joining in on movie night.”

“Awesome.”

Sam sighs, “Well, sort of awesome. He’s cool, but he’s gonna embarrass the shit outta me, and probably drive you up the wall.”

Gabe laughed, “Anything would be worth getting to hear humiliating childhood tales of you, Sammy.”

“One... more thing.” Sam says softly, as Gabe hands him his drink. Sam holds out a five, but Gabe waves it off.

“On the house. What is it, Sam?”

“Dean is... loosely bisexual?” The term is a question on Sam’s tongue, and Gabriel doesn’t miss it. He freezes minutely behind the counter and a frown forms between his eyebrows.

“So, it’s, like, totally cool if you don’t want to come anymore, knowing that.” Sam rambles a bit, feeling his ears go red.

Gabe speaks slowly, as if Sam is a great big idiot. “Why in the world would that bother me?”

Sam shrugged, “It has before. Bothered people.”

Gabe scowls, actually glares so menacingly at Sam that it surprises him. “Does it bother _you_?”

Sam frowns at Gabriel’s poisonous tone. “Not in the slightest. He’s my brother, and I could care less who he sleeps with. Or who anyone sleeps with, for that matter.”

Gabe’s expression lightens, “You know Castiel is gay, right? Like, rainbow on his forehead, terrified of vaginas, completely homosexual to the core.”

Sam nearly staggers with these words. “What?!” Three customers turn to look at the counter and Sam clears his throat, “I had absolutely no idea! But that’s good. I mean, it’s great. I mean... fuck, shit, Gabe, I’m just trying to say-”

Gabe laughs and the sound makes all of Sam’s stresses in life fade away. “It’s cool, Sam.  I don’t really care who sleeps with who either. I’ll be happy to meet your brother, especially if he’s as delicious as you.”

Sam flushes deeply, and tries to stop the despair he feels from showing. Dean is most certainly ‘ _delicious’ if Gabe was into that whole muscles everywhere, medical professional, fix-any-car-thrown-at-him kind of manly man._

Sam grimaces, “Warn the others. I’m serious, he’s a menace.”

Gabe blows him a fake kiss as he disappears out the door.

 

* * *

 

Dean was never meant to be cooped up in an apartment with cleaning duty, but he manages to complete his task for the day without murdering the evil cat Sam had taken in. He even manages not to eat the movie snacks Sam had prepared so painstakingly before he left.

How he manages these miracles for his brother he isn’t sure.

Still, Dean changes before Sam’s friends arrive, and Sam returns. Sam comes in bearing a bag and a smug smile, and sets the bag on the table. An aroma hits Dean that nearly has him hitting his knees in prayer and happiness.

“Pie?” his question isn’t unfounded because Sam opens the bag and pulls out a freshly baked pie. It looks incredible.

“Raspberry-Rhubarb. Figured you’d like it.”

“What did I do to deserve you, you great Sasquatch of a brother?!” Dean was on his feet and in front of the pie in seconds.

“Well, it’s actually what you haven’t done yet.” Sam answered, hesitantly.

Dean glances at him, “What do I need to do?” 

Sam’s expression turns into puppy dog eyes, forlorn and lost. “Please, please, please, try to get along with my friends. I’m serious. No threats, no fights, no mortifying childhood stories. They’re... important to me, Dean.”

Dean is staring at him, “I only threatened that one kid because he was making eyes at you!”

“Well, none of these ones are making eyes, and please don’t give them wedgies.”

“I am so much more creative than I was in the tenth grade, Sammy. But no, I won’t wedgie your friends, scout’s honor!”

“Wedgies were never creative, bitch.”

Dean grimaced, “You were never on the receiving end, thanks to _me_ , jerk!”

Sam grins, and it fades as quickly as it came when the buzzer sounds. He rushes to press the talking button.

“Hello?”

“Dr. Sexy here, heard there was a massive orgy happening in-”

Sam slammed the intercom off and pressed the entrance button more times than was strictly necessary. Dean tried to withhold his laughter.

Minutes later there’s a knock at the door and Sam is looking like someone has threatened to light him on fire, or make him ride in a car. Both equally terrifying in different ways for Sam Winchester. Dean sighs.

“Relax, dude. Here, I’ll get it.” He makes it to the door and opens it, seeing a short guy with a wide, smug grin.

“Gabriel Novak.” The man shakes his hand and brushes past him, and Dean doesn’t get another word in with him before a stunning red head is smiling at him and shaking his hand.

“Anna Milton.” Her eyes are a lovely color, grey, but still warm. Dean wants her number, and he wants her legs wrapped around him while he’s buried to--

Grey? Grey? No, no, now there is blue. Dean finds himself shaking hands with one more person, someone with a firm grip, and messy hair, and the most ridiculously intense eyes Dean has ever seen in his life.

“Dean Winchester.” He thinks he manages to sound halfway normal, although the man’s eyes crinkle in what could possibly be laughter.

“Castiel Novak.” He replies, his voice rumbling through Dean’s body like fucking ice water and a conflagration of arousal.

Dean shuts Sam’s door and turns around to stare at the scene greeting him. Sam seems pleased that Dean got through intros without dismembering someone, and Gabriel is watching Sam out of the corner of his eye while Anna brings the snack plates to the living room coffee table. Zeppelin is curled up in Castiel’s lap on the love seat, loud purrs emanating from her. Cas looks content, and Dean seriously debates if he ever wants to see anything but Cas’ half smile for the rest of his life again.

He supposes that he would fucking _love_ to see, would die for, Cas’ face scrunch up in arousal, his blue eyes open and electric as he came in Dean’s mouth.

Well. That was a bit of a fantasy that was never meant to come alive in Sam’s living room, with Dean half hard and praying for some sort of erotica scene to happen.

“Gabe, wanna grab that pie?” Sam’s voice dragged him back to earth, the word _pie_ giving him a healthy dose of happiness.

Gabe grinned at Sam, “Yes, boss.” 

Sam laughed --and just like that, Dean fucking _knew_.

Sam had looked like that a grand total of three times in his entire life, and Dean had now been there for all of them. 

One: the day Dean had taken him out on his fourteenth birthday, just him and Dean, and driven all the way to the beach. Dean had just gotten his license and his birthright, the Impala ’67, a slick ride that Dean’s father had passed on. He took Sammy everywhere he could think of that day, anywhere Sam had never been given the chance to see with their father around.

Two: the day Sam got his acceptance letter from Stanford.

Three: the day he met Jessica, on move in. He had nearly stopped breathing he had stared at her so hard, and Dean knew he was completely and utterly lost for her.

So to say that Dean was surprised that his brother was looking at another person that way was perhaps the biggest fucking understatement of the year. It was also a surprise that Gabriel was a man; the only person in the Winchester family known to occasionally bend the rules of heterosexuality was Dean.

Oh, Sammy. So secretive. Of course there was no ‘lucky lady’. Sly bastard, he may be a terrible liar, but he had always been too smart for his own good.

Anna appeared at his side, making him finally look away from Sam’s smile. It had been a rare sight in the past year and a half, and it made Dean’s heart clench in an odd way.

“Your brother is a wonderful man,” she says softly, “I’ve never seen Gabriel and Castiel so happy.”

“Castiel?” Dean murmurs back, questioning. He can see why Sam would make Gabriel happy, it’s obvious that Sam’s a lying liar that lies because Dean has rarely seen anyone make eyes so blatantly as Gabriel Novak. He probably deserves a wedgie, and Dean desperately wants to induct him into the Winchester hate-love  club, but he’s much too curious about how Sam had changed Castiel’s life to do so.

“He doesn’t have many friends. None of us do, really, but Castiel is different. He appreciates that Sam accepts him.” Anna’s tone is grateful, so very grateful, and Dean realizes that he has this much in common with the red head, even if he’s lost the attraction to her. They both love their siblings more than anything.

Dean glances back at Sam, who is now taller than him, and more educated, and much, much sadder than Dean can ever remember him being. Still, Dean only sees gangly limbs, floppy hair, and the biggest brown eyes in the world; he sees a young boy who doesn’t have a real dad, but a big brother, and that’s all he really needs. He sees a teenager who loves books more than people, and yet still takes the time to help anyone in pain.

Really, he hasn’t changed much, and yet he’s changing everything. That’s what Sam does. He changes everything, helps people, saves lives. He had always been so much more than Dean, so much more than John, or anyone. Dean had always believed that Sam would be an amazing lawyer, but now, looking at him, he wondered if maybe Sam was just something else entirely. Something fantastic, and incredible. A game changer.

“Let’s watch this movie!” Gabriel’s voice breaks Dean out of his thoughts, and he manages to snag the spot beside Castiel on the couch. The dude might be socially awkward and friendless, but he had a voice that was incredible enough to send goosebumps all over Dean’s flesh, and Dean was pretty willing to overlook some minor flaws to hang out with him a little more.

The movie was terribly stupid, and Dean and Gabriel kept up a running commentary the entire time. Sam whined about it incessantly, but Castiel kept laughing under his breath, which only encouraged Dean to do it more. Anna didn’t seem to mind one way or the other, totally engrossed in the movie snacks to care. Dean liked her a little more for that fact, even though she totally stole a piece of his pie. Dean does not share pie.

“I think I would move away after I found out the house was resting atop a burial ground.” Castiel’s voice is low and gravelly, and it does strange things to Dean’s stomach. 

Dean rolls his eyes, “You learn quickly, grasshopper.”

Castiel turns to him, head cocked to the side like some sort of goddamn kicked puppy. “I don’t understand that reference.”

“Jesus, Cas, we totally need to get you out more.” Dean mutters. 

Sam jumps up, probably nervous that Dean is once more allowed to talk about things other than haunted houses and ghosts, and has a chance to wedgie unsuspecting victims.  Sam always cleans when he gets nervous, and tonight is no exception. The snacks are put away in a flurry --still, efficiently and neatly -- Anna looks devastated that they’re gone.

Gabriel stands, “Well, Sam needs his beauty rest, and I for one don’t want to hang out with grumpy Sammy all day if he doesn’t get his eight hours, so I’m heading home. You two comin’?”

Anna shrugs, “Sure, I have to work early tomorrow. Thanks for the movie night, Sam.”

Castiel turns to Dean and deposits the demon kitten into his lap. He smiles, just a little bit, one corner of his mouth turning up. “It was nice to meet you, Dean.”

Dean thinks he might pass out after hearing his name said in Cas’ porn star voice, but he just manages to hold it together long enough for Sam to say goodnight to everyone and shut the door.

Sam returns to the couch and flops down opposite him, looking both exhausted and anxious. Dean realizes they are on the verge of talking about _feelings_ **,** which are so not Dean’s thing.

“Dude, your friend is smoking hot.” Dean blurts out. He realizes too late that he has managed to avoid the feelings talk only to sink himself deep into awkward-as-fuck territory.

Sam’s eyes go wide and sad, and Dean wonders how he managed to fuck up that bad only a sentence in. So what if Dean thinks Cas is bangable beyond belief? It’s not like he had sex with him on Sam’s bed with his kitten watching, or something.

“He’s, well, I mean, he might not be gay. I don’t know. He’s just-- he’s probably not interested, is all I’m saying.” Sam splutters.

Dean curses, “Well, fuck. It’s okay, Sammy, I’ll try not to give your friends the best time of their lives.”

Sam manages a smile, but it kind of still looks like he’s about to puke. “Gee, thanks, Dean.”

“Seriously, though, Sammy. They’re pretty cool. I’m proud of you.” Dean says all of this with a straight face, and he’s pretty excited that he’s probably managed to totally avoid a feelings talk for the next six months with that comment.

Still, he’s totally bummed Cas is off the market. Not interested. Ouch. Dean hates those words nearly as much as _‘it’s not you, it’s me’_ which is basically a big lie that every girl he’s ever dated for more than a week says when they really mean _‘it’s not me, it’s your job, and incapability to talk about your feelings’_.

Still, if Sammy says no, Dean will respect that. Even if Cas looks at him with incredible eyes, accompanied by awkward comments and soft laughter, Dean will resist.

Maybe. Hopefully.

Fuck, the things he does for his brother.

 

* * *

 

** Chapter 4: Misunderstanding **

 

Dean was up in time to see him off for work. It should have come as a surprise since Dean was all rough edges, drinking and sleeping and cursing, and to wake up early enough to make breakfast for someone else was probably not something that should come naturally to him. Still, Sam wasn’t surprised; Dean had been making his breakfasts longer than anyone else, and he had never let Sam eat alone before school.

School was a long time ago now, as were the days when Sam only had Dean to make him breakfast. Still, he appreciated the slightly burnt toast Dean set in front of him, even if he was still irrationally angry at the fact that Dean thought Gabriel was hot.

“Morning, Sammy!” Dean was far too cheerful for the early hour, “How long do you work for today?”

Sam shrugged, “Just until two, then I’m going to the library for a bit. We could go grab some dinner after?”

Dean smiled, a genuine one, and Sam couldn’t help but return it. “That sounds good, Sam. Invite your friends, if you like.”

Sam was suddenly, savagely pleased, “Gabriel can’t come unfortunately, he’s got a business seminar tonight. I could ask Castiel and Anna.”

Dean’s grin grows, “Sure, do that. I’ll meet you here? I want to look around town.”

“Don’t get in too much trouble,” Sam grimaced, “I’ll see you later.”

Sam didn’t bother locking the door on the way out of the apartment, and managed to get to Bump N’ Grind ten minutes early. He threw on his apron, which Gabriel had decorated with pins and glitter glue. Sam had yet to get his new apron which Gabe had _promised_ he ordered, since he had ruined this one.

“Heya, Sammy.” Gabriel greeted, brown eyes crinkled in a smile. “That apron totally suits you, by the way.”

Sam rolled his eyes, “It’s Sam. And no, it doesn’t.” He started up the cash register, logging his name into the time slot. He liked working the till; people were friendly as long as he was competent, and Gabriel generally would work some of the machines and talk to him. Made the shifts pass quickly, in a flurry of coffee and muffins, laughter and tricks.

“Large blueberry london fog, non-fat.” Sam called to Gabriel. Gabe snorted and started the steamer. Sam withheld his own amusement and Gabriel’s undignified noise for the sake of the woman who had ordered the drink; Gabe didn’t believe in non-fat, and he looked down on every customer who managed to even utter the words. 

“Three seventy-five, please.” Sam told her, taking her extended cash. 

She smiled up at him prettily, all soft brown eyes and sun kissed skin. Her hair was long and straight, trailing over the bared skin of her arms; blonde, blonde like Jess, blonde like his past. He couldn’t help but resent her.

How come she got to have smiles and flirting and stupid non-fat drinks when all Jess got was pain, and a barely started life, and death?

“Thank you,” she said when he handed her the drink.

Gabriel clicked his tongue disapprovingly as she left, muttering, “There are no decent people on this planet any longer. Shamelessly flirting with the coffee guy after ordering such a heinous drink. What has this world even come to?”

Sam laughed, “You are ridiculous.”

Gabe frowned, “The only ridiculous thing I am is ridiculously good-looking.”

Sam privately agreed with that assessment, although he managed to choke out: “And short.”

Gabriel gaped at him, “Only cause you’re monstrously tall! What did Dean even feed you growing up?!”

Sam laughed, “Anything we could afford really.”

“What’s his deal, anyway?” Gabriel asked, turning back to the coffee machines, switching dials and wiping spills.

Sam’s stomach clenched, “What do you mean?”

Gabe waved his hand, dirty rag following the motion. “What’s his job? What’s the story?”

Sam frowned, “Uh, Dean’s an EMT. You know, the guys that go in the ambulance and do on-site medical treatments?”

“Yes, I do happen to know what an EMT is, Sam.” Gabriel said, mocking present in his voice.

Sam shrugged, “Yeah. He’s good at it. Good at working under pressure. Has some issues with guilt though.”

Gabriel glanced at him, “What do you mean?”

“Dean,” Sam swallowed hard, “Dean was the one who, uh, found me and Jess after the accident. He tried... he tried so hard. It’s his job, you know, saving people.” Sam sighed, “Anyway, he can’t save everyone. Though he tries.”

Gabriel’s expression is nearly comical, a twisted mixture of shock, horror, pity, and almost gratitude: “He saved you, though, Sam.”

Sam laughed, the sound punched out of him. “Yeah. Dean always saves me. It’s kind of our thing. Never really been independent, either of us. This moving to Bandon was... unprecedented. Difficult.”

Gabriel’s mouth twisted, unsure whether to smile or frown, “It’s a good thing, Sammy, whether you know it or not.”

Sam takes it all in: Gabriel’s half smile, carefree brown eyes. “I know it.”

  

* * *

 

 The library is quiet when Sam gets there, which isn’t really all that much of a shock. He traverses the familiar carpet, finding himself in the far corner where all of his favorite fantasy books are hidden away. Minutes slip away from him as his fingers peruse the treasures in the shelves, remembering past novels that had dragged him into adventure, and imagining new voyages. 

Sam had always loved reading, had always found solace in the smell of both new paper and well loved spines. Dean had never minded, and when they were still both young and mostly homeless he would take Sam to the nearest library, settling into uncomfortable chairs and letting books become the closest thing Sam had to friends. Sam could still recall, hazily and ancient now, curling into Dean’s side as he read to him, back before Sam had learned to read and surpassed Dean’s grade level.

Sam couldn’t remember John reading to him. He remembered learning to write his name, learning the loose curls of the ‘S’, hearing Dean’s exclamations of pride as he finally got ‘m’. He remembered his first spelling test, and getting 100%, and Dean taking him out for ice cream. 

Sam can’t remember before that, but if he could he would find more of the same; empty motel rooms, worn clothes and cold toes, cereal for dinner. His first steps, towards a brother who had only just learned to read; his first word, the name of his brother, who had only ever been told to take care of him. His first day of school, documented only because his brother had used their food money for a disposable camera; he never knew, never went hungry, because Dean had already planned ahead, already knew how he would feed Sam, even if he couldn’t feed himself.

Dean had read to him again, when he had been in hospital, sick with grief and two broken ribs. His brother’s voice; stricken with sadness for his little brother, and for not being fast enough or capable enough to save the one woman who mattered. Dean was hurting too; he had lost his almost sister-in-law, their mother and father, Bobby. He had almost lost Sam to the same accident, and then he had lost him, for a while, to sadness and Jess’ memory.

And yet, no one had ever read to Dean.

“Sam.” Castiel surprised him, appearing abruptly by Sam’s shoulder.

Sam grasped his chest, “Oh my god, Cas! What are you doing here?”

Cas shrugged, “Checking out books. Gabriel is busy, so I’m waiting for him.”

Sam frowned, “Busy doing what? He should have gotten off work fifteen minutes ago.”

“I think he’s out having lunch,” Castiel smiled at the book in Sam’s hands, “That’s a good choice, Sam, you’ll like it.”

Sam managed to force some semblance of a smile onto his lips, “Thanks, Cas, I’m gonna get it. I’ll catch you later, yeah?”

Cas nodded, meandering off into another section of the shelving. Sam    barely managed to wait until his trench coat disappeared before he’s dropped the book onto the open shelf and rushed through the library. 

Gabriel, out having lunch? Without _Cas?_ The only other person Gabriel spent any amount of time with was Anna, and she was in the library. Sam attempted to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, the dark rage that had lingered since Jess’ death, and perhaps beyond that, into a childhood where his father had dealt with his anger with his fists. 

It wasn’t fair, to think that. John Winchester hadn’t been a cruel man, necessarily. He had been an okay father; better than most, surely. Sam and Dean were always fed and educated, and Sam could hardly fault the man for making them live in motel rooms. At least they had a roof over their heads.

He _could_ fault him for drinking, and keeping him awake with screaming temper tantrums. Sam could blame him for the dents in the walls that had to be explained away to hotel management, and the way Dean flinched anytime John managed to crack open a bottle of his old friend Jack. Still, it wasn’t fair to blame him for more; John had done his best. 

Their mother had died, and John couldn’t handle it. He’d suddenly become a single father who was stuck with two boys who had no idea how to live without a mother. Mary, their mother, had been the light of John’s world; her brutal murder had come as a surprise to everyone. She had been beautiful and kind, and the type of mom that Dean still bragged about; Sam couldn’t remember her, but he loved her. He loved her, and he hadn’t known her for more than six months; how could he ever blame John who had loved her and known her for years?

Sam kind of knew what it felt like to have the one thing you loved taken away from you. He could barely take care of himself and a cat after Jessica, he didn’t think he’d be any better than John had been if he had been stuck with two boys.

Bump N’ Grind appeared in front of Sam suddenly, and he collapsed against the wall to catch his breath. The windows were nearly sparkling, due to the fact that Sam himself had Windexed them only the day before. 

Gabriel is sprawled out in a chair, lounging and laughing; the special kind of laugh, the one where his gold eyes crinkled up in amusement. Sam can’t see the person Gabe is sitting with, but it doesn’t matter. He’d know that silhouette anywhere, could identify it in his sleep.

Gabriel was having lunch with Dean.

“Fuck.” Sam cursed, turning away quickly. He reminded himself it didn’t mean anything, they were officially new friends, and friends were allowed to hang out. Besides, he wasn’t even sure if Gabe was gay.

Sam has been angry with Dean many times in his life; mostly for stupid things, little brother things. He’s never been this mad, and he still can’t bring himself to walk into the coffee shop and interrupt them. Dean deserved it, deserved any happiness he could find, even if it was with Gabriel.

He had Jess. Sam had Jessica and happiness and a future, and he had never looked at anyone else the way he had looked at her. Dean had never had anyone like that; never had anyone he had made plans with. Even if Sam never had anyone else, even if Gabe wasn’t for him, he _knew_. He knew what it was to wake up next to someone that meant everything; how the entire world seemed to light up along with their words and smiles. 

Dean didn’t know, and Sam wanted him to. So he would let them have their _stupid_ coffee date, and he wouldn’t interrupt. He would go home, and feed Zeppelin, and try to find another town across the continent to restart his life, _again._

* * *

  

Dean entered Sam’s apartment and tossed his coat over a dining room chair, scaring Zeppelin as he did so. Sam’s slouched on his couch, looking far more miserable than he had this morning. Even Zeppelin won’t go near him, meowing pitifully from Sam’s room where she’s now hidden.

Dean interrupted Sam’s mope, “He’s most definitely gay, Sammy!”

Sam sunk further into the couch, “Good for you, Dean.”

“What’s your problem, man?” Dean asked, curious as to his little brother’s bad mood.

Sam snapped, “Nothing, just tired.”

Dean shrugged, heading for the shower, “Whatever, dude, I’m totally gonna bang that.”

Sam groaned. 

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 5: Clarity**

 

 

“Sammy, seriously, what is up with you recently?” Gabe’s voice interrupted his monotonous cleaning of the coffee machines. 

Sam glanced at him, “Nothing, Dean’s just getting under my skin.”

Gabe laughed, tossing his rag over his shoulder, “You shouldn’t let him get to you, he’s a pretty cool guy.”

Sam rolled his eyes, “Yeah, he’s great.” He didn’t wait for Gabriel’s response and instead slipped into the back room on the pretense of needing more ground coffee beans. Dean had been whistling this morning as he had done the dishes in Sam’s apartment -- whistling! It was ridiculous how cheerful he was, and he kept throwing comments into their conversation about how Gabe had mentioned this, or done this, or said this. It was too much.

Sam loved Dean, more than anything in the entire world. Hell, he loved Dean more than he loved Jessica, and he knew it because he was still around even after Jess was gone, and if Dean had been the one in the car that night Sam would have found a way to follow him even into death. He followed his big brother anywhere.

Unfortunately, he also wanted Gabriel for himself, and his brother talking about how awesome he was and how Sam should invite him over more to get to know him was grating on him.

“Extra large black coffee with two sugars and a large mocha with whip cream.” A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts. Cas was standing in front of the till, blue eyes glued to him.

“Hey, Cas! Two drinks, eh? Is Anna with you?” Sam grinned. He really liked Castiel, even if he was a little anti social, and Anna was hilarious.

Cas smirked, “No, I am meeting Dean and thought I’d bring his regular coffee for a surprise.”

Sam reeled for a moment, pleasure coating him at the thought that maybe lunch with Gabriel was just Dean getting to know his friends, and he was getting to know Cas and Anna as well! Although, Dean had declared his intentions to ‘bang’ Gabe, so it was probably a little different.

“Oh cool, where are you meeting?” Sam asked.

Cas shrugged, “I walked here so we thought we’d meet at your apartment since it’s close, and then Dean was going to drive us to my place.”

Gabriel chose this moment to exit the back dressed in total street gear and grinning, “I’m off work now anyway, Cassy, I’ll drive you so you don’t have to walk.”

Sam nodded as if that plan made sense to him, although nothing involving automobiles and roads ever made sense anymore at all.

“See ya later, Sammy.” Gabe called as they left, and Sam barely remembered to respond that it was ‘Sam’.

 

* * *

 

His phone buzzed in his pocket again, and Sam barely managed to restrain himself from rolling his eyes in front of the customer. Dean had been texting him non-stop since Cas left about stupid inane work things, and fun facts about Gabriel and Castiel. It was driving Sam crazy, but he hadn’t taken his phone out often enough to text Dean back with something clever to shut him up.

“Have a nice day.” Sam repeated to the woman in front of him with graying hair. He stepped away from the till and headed to the back for his break, pulling his cell phone out of his apron as he went.

He had three text messages, two from Dean and one from Gabe. Gabe’s was pretty simple: ‘ _Joining Dean n Cas 4 dinner at that pizza place on main, come over after work?’_. 

Dean’s messages were confusing: ‘ _Dude, tell Gabe to leave me and Cas alone’_ and _‘ur bf is a cockblock’._

Sam was stunned, pressing the call back button right away. What in the absolute hell was Dean talking about?!

Dean picked up right away, “Heya, Sammy.”

“It’s Sam.” Sam responded automatically, “Anyway, what do you mean, _my boyfriend_?”

Dean scoffed, “Dude, it’s kinda obvious.”

“What are you even talking about? I thought you were into Gabe?”

Dean laughed so loudly Sam pulled his cell away from his ear, “No! What the hell, Sammy?”

“Dean, you said like two nights ago you wanted to bang him,” Sam reminded, “pretty sure that means you’re into him.”

“I was _talking_ about Cas,” Dean snorted, “Gabe, are you sure it’s left at the lights?”

Sam panicked, “Are you _driving?”_

“Calm down, Sammy. Gabriel is dri-” 

The most awful crunching noise Sam had ever heard filled the speaker of his phone, and Sam could feel his heart drop through the bottom of his stomach. He knew that sound.

He had heard that sound before; it was the first thing he heard in his nightmares, and the last thing Jessica had heard before she had died.

It was the sound of metal crunching into other metal, the sound of death on wheels and his misery.

Dean never finished the sentence.

 

* * *

 

Sam didn’t even think, he raced out the front of Bump N’ Grind and straight onto the street. He ran faster than he had in years, covering the few blocks towards main street. He knew the exact pizza place Gabe had meant, and Bandon was nowhere near big enough to hide an accident on the main street.

Sam called the police as he ran, told them to go to the crime scene, to bring ambulances. He can’t remember anything the person he talked to said, not a single word, but he knows he called them, and that they’ll get there.

They won’t be too late, not this time. Dean and Gabe will be okay, and Sam won’t have to watch them die in his arms. They’ll be fine, and Sam will give them absolute shit for scaring him half to death, and they’ll get pizza and laugh about this.

Sam’s cell phone rang, and he snatched it up without breaking stride. He can’t breathe, but he’s not sure if it’s from the exercise or the terror flowing through his veins.

“Sam, I’m waiting for Gabriel and Dean at the pizza place, I went ahead in Dean’s car-”

Sam interrupted, “They’ve had an accident --main street. Gabe was driving.”

Cas hung up without a response, and Sam doesn’t blame him in the slightest.

The accident is monstrous, waiting for Sam around the corner from the pizza place. They were not even a block away from their destination, and Sam can feel something vaguely hysterical rise up in him at the thought.

He crashes into the forming crowd, pushing people away and screaming --he looks mad, he knows it, and vaguely he can hear Castiel yelling his name from off to his left -- all that matters is the wreckage.

There’s a single truck: white and bent in on the driver’s side. A man is standing beside it with his arm at an odd angle and a gash down his left cheek. Sam despises him with his entire being upon first sight; he is the man who has managed to run the red that killed everything Sam has left.

The familiar blue car that Gabriel had driven to work daily is destroyed. The driver’s side is completely caved in, with every window smashed and airbags flapping as the horn blares out. Sam can hear ambulance sirens, but he thinks they’re too late because no one could survive that.

Sam is wrong.

Dean is there, beside the destroyed blue car, and he’s kneeling over Gabriel. Sam feels it like a blow and drops to his knees, still at least ten feet away on the hard concrete. He thought he had been ready for the worst, but there was nothing to prepare him for the sight of Gabriel laid out on the asphalt, his left arm stuck at a terrible angle like the remains of some sort of broken wing.

Dean was screaming, “Don’t you dare die on me, you asshole!” and Sam couldn’t understand him through the car horns and the ambulance sirens, or the police in uniforms who pushed him aside.

The paramedics were efficient in a way the ones who had come to Jessica’s accident weren’t. They had everyone in an ambulance within minutes, and it was only when Sam was bodily forced into a standing position by Castiel that he realized something was entirely wrong.

“Where’s the bag?” He asked, “Where’s the black bag? To put on the bodies?”

It had been the worst part, watching Jessica’s lifeless eyes be swallowed up by black; Sam had lost her to an opaque bag before she ever got loaded into the ambulance.

“Sam, Sam.” Cas was chanting at him, holding him up. “There are no bags. You can stop yelling.”

Sam realized the terrible whining was coming from his own throat, and he cut it off. “Why aren’t there bags? There’s always bags! Jess had a bag.” His voice was shredded and snapped halfway through the statement.

 “They’re not dead. Gabriel’s not dead. We have to go to the hospital.” Cas explained.

Sam was numb, more than anything; confusion didn’t even enter the scope of emotions he had going on. Castiel bundled him into a _car_ of all places, and Sam let him drive without complaint, even as he took left hand turns too sharply. 

They reached the hospital barely seconds after the ambulance. Sam had forgotten how fast cars were, although he would never forget the sound they made when they collided.

“Cas,” Sam whispered, “they can’t die.”

“They won’t.” Cas replied, fiercely: as if he would battle whatever force thought to steal their brothers from them.

 

* * *

  

Sam remembered hospitals. He remembered the smell: antiseptic and sadness. Everyone was in need of a miracle, and there wasn’t enough to go around. It had been the same when he had been in the bed, motionless and absolutely hopeless. Sam hadn’t wanted to get better.

Now, now Sam needed a miracle. Emergency was crowded, and there was too much noise for him to even think. His world had boiled down to three things, three people.

Cas, sitting beside him with his hands clenched on a cup of coffee he hadn’t touched in over an hour.

Dean, somewhere hidden behind blue curtains, in a room where he was being fixed with medication and thread. 

Gabriel. 

Gabriel was somewhere else, somewhere not with Dean. Dean was going to live. Dean would be fine; he would have some scars, and maybe the same type of fear of cars that Sam lived his life with, but he would be okay. Dean had always been a survivor, and he had more than his fair share of scars and fears, and he still came out okay.

Gabe, though? Gabriel was deeper in the hospital, battling 50/50 for a life the doctors were amazed he still held on to. 

Sam’s brain was stuck in an infinite loop of the last conversation he had with Dean, hearing his brother laughing at him. Hearing Dean declare that Gabriel was _Sam’s_ , that Dean had no interest in him.

“He liked you.” Sam blurted, not even aware he was about to say anything until the words came out of him.

Cas frowned at his dark brew, “I’m aware.”

“No, Dean. I mean, Dean liked you-- likes you.” Sam amends.

Cas glances at him, “I know. We were supposed to be going to dinner.”

Sam is so confused, “You and Dean... you knew!? I thought Dean liked Gabe.”

Saying his name makes them both wince. Still, Cas recovers, though he takes the first gulp of his coffee first.

“Why would you think that?” Cas asks, “Dean has been going on about how you two are so good together if only you would ask him out. He’s been trying to get you both together this whole time.”

It suddenly made sense -- all the times Dean had talked Gabe up. The times he had mentioned Gabriel at dinner, and what Gabe had said, and every single detail that had to do with Sam.

“Shit.” Sam says, and that basically sums everything up.

Cas sighs, “I thought you knew. I thought you just weren’t ready; you know, after Jess. Gabe... Gabe told me about her. About what happened.”

Sam is silent for a long time, and Cas doesn’t push or ask anything else. Sam wonders if this is why Dean likes him; Dean has never had anyone in his life who didn’t demand and take. 

“I’m not ready,” Sam murmurs, “I don’t think anyone is ever ready for someone like Gabriel, especially after Jess. But it doesn’t matter, because it happened anyway. I moved to Bandon, and met Gabe, and now I can’t even fathom a day without him. I can’t stand that he manages to dye every single apron of mine pink, and drops icing sugar and flour on me daily, and without fail --every _single_ time-- he steals the last of the chocolate cake. He just, he just makes me so _mad_ , and that’s more than I’ve had in a long time, y’know? Someone who made me mad, and happy, and...” Sam trails off. He can’t explain how much Gabe means to him. His stupid pranks, and delicious coffee, and ridiculous jokes, and his face, the way he smiles and laughs and looks at Sam.

Cas nods. “Yeah.”

He really fucking gets it, and Sam knows that none of them will ever be okay if Gabriel doesn’t walk out of the hospital.

It takes three more coffees and hours upon hours before Sam and Castiel are even acknowledged. Cas stands first, and Sam marvels that his legs don’t give out on him. The doctor has a kind face, but he looks saddened in a way that Sam supposes only people who have seen death would know. 

“Sam Winchester?” The doctor asks, “Castiel Novak?”

Sam nods stupidly, aware that he looks like some sort of mindless bobble head. Better than Castiel though, who has yet to make any sort of motion or sound since standing.

“Dean is in recovery, and you can come visit him. He’s got a few broken ribs, and a bad concussion, but he’ll be released in a few days after further scans and observation.”

Sam nearly collapses with relief because he’s been here before. It’s terrible, but Sam knows what it’s like to lose everything and still have Dean there. Sam knows how to go on, even if it’s only ever Dean and him.

“Gabriel Novak is in critical condition, but he’s in a better place than he was two hours ago. His body is stabilizing, though he has yet to come out of the sedation. We’re not in the clear yet, but you should both know that this looks promising.”

Cas smiles, and Sam thinks it’s the most beautiful fucking thing he’s seen ever, and that perhaps the only thing that could ever be more incredible would be the sight of Gabriel.

“Can we see Dean? Right now?” It’s Castiel who asks this, and Sam drops a hand shakily on his shoulder in agreement.

The doctor nods, and he grins at them in a way that tells Sam that no matter what he has seen, he knows that _this_ , this happiness when a miracle happens, it makes his job worth it. 

“You should both know,” the doctor says, “if Gabriel comes out of this, it’s because of Dean. He saved his life out there today.”

Sam nods, because he _knows,_ he fucking knows. That’s what Dean does, he comes in and he helps people.

It’s all he knows, and it’s what he’s good at, and it’s the reason Sam has always wanted to grow up to be just like Dean.

He may not save them all, but he saves enough.

He tries.

 

* * *

 

**Epilogue**

  

It started with laughter on a Thursday night, blue eyes crinkled up in amusement and love as a date night was suggested; blond hair curled around the nape of her neck, and a short black dress that Sam wanted to peel off her inch by inch. Dancing in the living room and opening the passenger door for her as they headed to their favorite restaurant.

Maybe that wasn’t where it started. Maybe it started with a motel room, and his brother’s green eyes; studying every night for a shot at something more.

It didn’t matter either way. 

It had ended in a black sedan crashing into the passenger side. It had ended with the widening of blue eyes and a choked off scream of surprise and then-- later, one of pain. It had ended with blood everywhere, soaking the black dress and Sam’s arms.

It had ended with the slow _boom, boom, boom_ and then silence of her heartbeat.

It began again in a way that most premature tragedies do: a change, a move, a new job, a new life. The beginning was simple; where before there was law and a house and Jess, now there was only coffee and an apartment and Zeppelin. There were no cars, and no dances, and no kisses, but it was okay.

Perhaps that’s not entirely accurate. It might not have started again in Bandon, or in the apartment, or even with the black kitten called Zeppelin, which was the first thing Sam allowed himself to love _after_.

It might have started with Gabriel. With the laughter, and coffee, and pranks. With new friends and movie nights. Even with Dean, when he came to town.

Sometimes life didn’t end, even when it seemed like everything was over.

“You’re thinking far too hard this early.” The voice broke Sam out of his thoughts, and he glanced to the bed where Gabriel was slightly reclined and covered in bandages. 

“It’s like five-thirty, Gabe.” 

Gabriel frowned, “Damn! Those stupid drugs, I hate them! I want out of here.”

“You think it’s bad now? Today and yesterday were the first times you didn’t answer in complete gibberish.” Sam laughed -- he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to again, but his humour had healed along with Gabriel’s body.

“My cast is itchy, and I’m hungry for real food! Dean got to go home a week ago!”

Sam nodded, “And Dean had minimal injuries compared to you. No more complaining, I think I liked you better on drugs. You were nicer.”

“I probably said really embarrassing things.” Gabriel muttered, “How come I never get to see you being embarrassing?”

“I have some old tapes of him at 7 years old, talk about humiliating. I’ll show ya sometime.” Dean interrupted, Castiel following him into the room. It had become normal sometime over the last week at the hospital, seeing Cas and Dean together. They softened each other, in a way; Sam never tired of seeing Dean smile at something Castiel did.

“That would be awesome!” Gabriel says.

Sam rolls his eyes, “Dean, you’re absolutely evil. What’s up?”

“Talked to the nurses, Gabriel should be good to go in a few days.” Dean explains, “And by good to go I mean wheelchair, bed rest, and non-solid foods for at least another two weeks, but you can come home.”

Gabriel’s grin is blinding, and Sam forgets for a moment what he was about to say. It doesn’t matter, because for once Castiel is speaking up.

“I moved out. Into a house. You could come stay there and I’ll take care of you.”

Gabriel gapes, “Back the fuck up! You bought a house? Where? When? I am so out of the loop!”

Cas flushes minutely, and Dean slings an arm around his waist, “Actually, technically _we_ bought the house. A couple blocks from Sam’s apartment. It’s small: three bedrooms and two bathroom.”

Sam is equally as shocked as Gabe is: “Since when are you moving to Bandon?! Actually, since when are you two moving in together? It’s been like, a month!”

Dean shrugs and rubs the back of his neck, but Cas smiles serenely, “We’ve been talking about it since after the crash. Dean got a job, here at the hospital actually.”

“Uhh, congrats I guess?” Gabriel seems unsure, but also happy, “As  long as you’re sure, it’s just so fast.”

Dean grins, “Yeah, but it’s good.” He glances at Sam and nods, “It’s really good.”

Cas blushes, and Sam can’t help but notice how Dean’s arm tightens possessively for a moment. He’s simultaneously proud and jealous; he hasn’t mentioned to Gabriel at all his giant misunderstanding.

“I’m going to get the nurses to give you another pain dosage, you look uncomfortable.” Cas says.

Gabriel groans, “No, no! I hate them! No more!” His leg is fully casted and elevated, and Sam knows it’s bothering him by the way he’s twitching it around.

Cas scowls, “Gabriel Novak, you will have more pain medication if you’re in pain. Plus, Sam loves hearing your drugged up love confessions.”

Sam watches Dean and Castiel retreat after that comment, and he wonders if that had been planned. Gabriel is still spluttering on the bed, and Sam has never seen him flush that particular shade of red before. 

“I didn’t!” He declares, then suddenly unsure: “Did I?”

Sam ducks his head to hide his smile, but after a moment he replies: “No... you didn’t.”

Gabriel sighs, “Dean is a bad influence on my little brother. I can’t believe how hard I tried to get them together.”

It’s now or never. It’s the perfect moment, and Sam can hardly catch his breath to tell Gabe how he feels, how badly he screwed this up.

“How’s Bump N’ Grind?” Gabriel asks a moment later, breaking Sam’s momentum. 

“It’s ahh... good? The customers ask for you, I guess.” Sam rubs the back of his neck, “We want you back and working.”

“Aw, Sammy, did you miss me? Were you _worried?!_ ” 

Sam scowls, “It’s Sam. And obviously I was crazy to have missed you’re sass.”

Gabriel grins, “You did miss me. I know it.” He pauses and presses the nurse button beside him. “Going to ask for more pain meds. I hate when Cas is right.”

“Do you think he’s doing the right thing now? Doing what he’s doing, moving in with Dean?” Sam wonders. “Do you think we should stop them?”

Gabriel is silent for a long minute before he murmurs, “May I ask you a question? It’s... a difficult one.”

Sam nods, not trusting himself to speak.

“With Jessica... was there any doubt? That you were doing the right thing? That it wasn’t moving too fast?”

Sam meets curious golden eyes and swallows hard. He had never doubted Jessica, or himself, or their love. Had she never died he would have never had glanced at Gabriel. It didn’t mean he loved her any more or less than Gabe, it just meant he would never have had any cause to laugh with Gabe, to get to know him. He never would have tried, or needed to.

For the first time in a long, long time Sam thinks perhaps he’s lucky. That he had her, for as short a time as he did. That he managed to lose the perfect person for him and find another one who fit in a totally different but just as perfect way. For him to have two people he loved so completely.

He thinks Jessica would have liked that.

Gabriel’s still waiting on an answer.

“I think... I think there are people in this world who are meant to find each other, and when they do there’s nothing wrong about it. There was never any doubt with Jess.” Sam nods, “And I know that if Dean loves Castiel even half as much as I loved her, they’re going to be perfect.”

Gabriel smiles softly, “I know Castiel has no doubt.”

Sam reaches over and takes his hand, “They’ll be fine.”

They stay like that, intertwined and content until the nurse comes in and Gabriel slips off into a daze once more.

 

* * *

  

The house is beautiful, and Sam knows that a lot of that has to do with Castiel. The couches all have blankets and pillows, and there’s comfort snacks in the pantry, and warm lamps all over. There’s also books and sweaters, and a brief case, and pictures; there’s dinner on the stove and it’s Sam’s favorite. These touches are from Dean, and they’re perfect.

“Love the house,” Sam declares, “it’s really nice guys.”

Castiel beams from his stool in the kitchen, and the tension in Dean’s shoulders fade away. Sam doesn’t miss the way his hand slides over to cover Castiel’s long fingers.

“We’re so glad. We’re still unpacking, but it’s coming along okay.” Cas says.

“It’s more than okay. It’s awesome.” Sam means it, too. He means the house, with it’s plushy carpet and wide windows; but he also means the way Dean and Cas move around each other. He means the way that half of the master bed is rumpled, and the other half immaculately made. He means the way that Cas runs his fingers over Dean’s back whenever he passes by, and the kisses Dean drops on Cas anytime he’s not expecting it.

Sam has never seen Dean so happy, and anything that makes Dean smile with his eyes all crinkled up is great in Sam’s book. It’s pretty awesome to see Castiel’s cheeks flush any time he grins, and Sam can’t wait to get back to the hospital to tell Gabriel all about his dinner. 

“Gabriel seems very jealous that he’s not allowed to be released yet. Perhaps you should bring him some shepherd's pie?”

Sam nods, “Yeah, he’d like that definitely.”

“It’s done, so grab a seat. You want ketchup, Sammy?” Dean says, pulling on obnoxiously pink oven mitts.

Sam snickers, “Nice mittens, dude. Of course I want ketchup.”

They sit down at the small dining table, and Sam snatches up some salad and a beer. Dean grins over at Castiel after almost every bite, and Sam revels in the taste of his favorite meal, the one Dean made after every stressful school event, and the one time Sam got stood up when he was fifteen. 

“This is delicious, Dean.” Cas says, “I have been constantly surprised by how good a cook your brother is, Sam.”

Sam shares a secret smile with Dean, “He’s an awesome cook. He’s even better at pie, I promise. He’ll have to make it for you.”

“Surprise, I have some for desert.” Dean laughs, and Sam can’t help but join in until his sides hurt. It’s the best he’s felt in weeks.

The pie is phenomenal, and Sam’s pretty sure Castiel is never going to leave now. His tongue is stained pink, and Dean hasn’t stopped smiling since he told the embarrassing story about Sam crashing his bike in grade two.

Sam leaves full of food and holding two different containers for Gabriel. He swings by his apartment and feeds Zeppelin, cuddling her for a while. She’s mellowed out in the last few weeks, and now she’s content to curl on his belly as he watches television. The room is filled with her purring, and Sam thinks about how amazing it is that only a few short weeks can change so much.

He leaves Zeppelin on the couch and grabs the containers, making his way back to the street. He wasn’t going to go to the hospital tonight, and Gabriel definitely wasn’t expecting him, but he was tired of waiting around. Tired of being afraid of everything around him, and tired of wondering if Gabriel truly did feel the same way. 

The hospital smells like disinfectant, and Sam has become so numb to it with all his visits recently that it doesn’t make him flinch anymore. The nurses wave to him now, and don’t bother making him sign in. They all joke that they’ll be glad to get rid of Gabriel, but sad to see Sam go, but Sam knows they love Gabe; it’s the way he is, slides under your skin and annoys and pushes so much until one day you realize he’s so deeply embedded in you that you can’t imagine anything without him.

The nurses will miss him. Sam knows it.

He’s sleeping when Sam walks in, relaxed in a way he never is when he’s awake. There’s flowers on his bedside, most likely from Anna who stops by most mornings.

Sam sits on the bed, rustling the sheets and making Gabe blink sporadically. It takes a minute and a wide yawn, but eventually Gabriel is staring at Sam with curiosity.

“Dinner sucked so much you came over?”

Sam laughs nervously, “No, it was awesome. I brought you leftovers.”

Gabriel lights up, “Hell yes, I hate hospital food. Still doesn’t explain why you’re here...”

“I thought you liked Dean.”

Gabe frowns, “I do, why?”

Sam runs a hand through his hair, “I mean I thought you liked Dean. Like... you wanted to be with Dean.”

Gabriel has the grace not to laugh, but his brow furrows in confusion, and Sam thinks that’s probably the only reason he isn’t finding this situation funny. 

“What are you talking about? I don’t want to be with Dean, Cas has liked him since he first laid eyes on him.”

Sam sighs, “Yeah, well, Dean kind of made it sound like he was into you, not Cas, and then I was super confused. Basically I thought you both wanted to be together basically up until the moment of the accident.”

Gabriel chokes off a laugh but sobers quickly at Sam’s glare, “No, Sam, no. I don’t like Dean that way, and he definitely doesn’t like me that way.”

Sam is silent for a moment. It doesn’t exactly mean that Gabriel loves Sam, but it’s a step in the right direction.

“Do you know why I named my cat Zeppelin?” Sam asks.

Gabriel shrugged, “Thought Dean helped you pick?”

“Yeah, he did. I named her Zeppelin cause Dean liked it, and it’s his favorite band.” Sam’s voice gets caught in his throat over his next words, “That’s what was playing. When I crashed. Ramble on.”

Gabriel’s hand twines into his, “Why would you keep that name around?”

Sam shrugs, “It seemed appropriate. The song is all about starting again, picking up everything and disappearing. It’s losing and looking for love. I wanted to leave and start again; seemed a good idea at the time.”

Gabe seems absolutely lost for words, and Sam’s never quite seen him like this before. He clears his throat, then stays silent; words are stuck to his tongue, afraid to show themselves.

Sam speaks first, “I think that the point of starting again is not being afraid.”

“What do you mean?”

Sam smiles, genuine and real: “I mean that I started again and I was so afraid of everything around me that I never really got over it. But I’m not afraid anymore. I want to do the things I used to do: you know, laugh and party and drive and make love.”

Gabe flushes, “Make love? Really, Sam? You are such a sap.”

Sam shrugs, content to let Gabriel’s dig lie. It’s true, he’s always been more for romance and commitment.

“When you crashed... I was so-- there was a moment -”

“Stop,” Gabriel whispers, “I’m safe, it’s fine.”

Sam turns to him, squeezing his hand: “It’s not though. I thought you died for a moment. And I realized that the biggest regret of my life wouldn’t be driving that night with Jess, it would be letting you die without knowing how I felt about you. Jessica, she died knowing that I loved her; honestly, it was awful, but I can’t imagine a better way to go than in the arms of someone that loves you, knowing that you matter.” Sam gulps, losing momentum. “So, Gabriel Novak, I need you to know that I love you. Like, a ridiculous amount. To the point where I laugh when I see flour all over my clothes, and want to wake up in the morning to your obnoxious singing, and get to have you coffee everyday. I want to watch stupid movies with you, and have family dinners, and travel. I want to kiss your stupid face, and I want to _make love_ to you. I want to love you, everyday, for the rest of my life. I just want you.”

His smile is slow to rise, but blinding when it gets there. Gabriel seems blown away by Sam’s rant, but eventually he gets his fingers laced into Sam’s collar and pulls him down. The kiss is slow and gentle, the start of something new.

Gabriel grins at him, “I can’t believe you thought I liked Dean. It’s you, Sammy. It’s always been you.”

Sam dives back in, and this time the kiss is deep, and Sam’s lips are left stinging in the best possible way. Gabriel’s eyes are barely focused, and Sam thinks that he could never get tired of that look, and of making Gabe look that way.

“You get out in two days. Wanna come over?” 

Gabe laughs, “Is this a seduction? Are we going to _make love_?”

“No way,” Sam informs slyly, “You’re on bed rest for two weeks. Making love shall have to wait.”

Gabe’s pout is legendary, until Sam leans back down and kisses it off his face. Eventually he settles into the bed, squishing both of them in, shoulder to shoulder.

“I love you too, you know.” Gabriel finally says.

Sam shuts his eyes and thinks of how this all started, and how it will end, with Gabriel at his side.

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Sam is afraid of car accidents due to the one he had that killed Jessica. Tenses are my nemesis, sorry.


End file.
